


Gravity

by orphan_account



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Astronaut Jack, Bitty is into it, Coffee Shop Owner Bitty, First Kiss, Fluff, Jack is a disaster, M/M, coffee shop AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-17 04:44:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13651692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Bitty grinned, leaning in a little closer.  “Must’a been a little lonely up there.”“It can be,” Jack admitted.  “It has its charms.”“Yeah?” Bitty asked.Jack brought up his other hand, and let the tips of his fingers touch Bitty’s jaw.  “I still don’t love gravity.  But…I’m happy to endure it, if I get to do this.”





	Gravity

**Author's Note:**

> So I saw [this video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a4UUCM-KwXY) about the astronaut who kept dropping things and I thought it would be a cute AU. Short but sweet, ja know? And apparently I'm all about space stuff right now. I blame my Astronomy lab, though space fanfic is way more fun.

“Yo, Bits! You good if I go on my break? I have like three more paragraphs to write on my paper and it’s due by six.”

“Go ahead, sweetheart. We’re not expecting a rush until two.” Bitty ran his hands under the warm spray of water at the sink, the gave them a swipe on his apron before wandering out from the kitchen. The café was all but deserted, apart from the customer Nursey had just served, and Bitty couldn’t help himself but stare a little.

He definitely wasn’t a regular—Bitty knew them all by heart, having set up shop four years ago, and he was a fixture in the Providence neighborhood now. His little café and bakery were tucked between a tattoo parlor and a florist shop. He became quick friends with the neighbors, Lardo, who owned the tattoo parlor, and her, well, Bitty wasn’t entirely sure _what_ Shitty was to her, but he was a lawyer and he lived with her, and he often lounged on the tattoo parlor couch in nothing but cutoffs when he wasn’t making waves at the court house.

Next door, two huge men, Ransom and Holster, ran the florist shop. Holster was an ex-hockey player, two seasons in the NHL before a skate to the knee ended his career. Ransom was Canadian, and had done something in marketing before they opened up shop, and they were poorer, but far happier, they both insisted.

It was like a little family, really, both the neighbors on either side, and the regulars who came in. And it wasn’t often outside of tourist season that Bitty saw a new face, so he couldn’t help but look.

And the man wasn’t hard to look at, lord have mercy.

He was tall, broad, muscular as all get out. The t-shirt he was wearing strained at the biceps, and his hair looked so freshly cut, there were little, black flecks clinging to the backs of his ears.

He was sitting back in his chair, holding a book in one hand, and his mug in the other, a little ways from the table. His brow was furrowed adorably, and Bitty couldn’t seem to help himself as he came around the counter with a fresh pot of coffee in his hands.

“You look new,” he said.

The stranger looked up, and oh _lord_ those were some blue eyes. “Ah. I just…moved.” His accent was subtle, but foreign enough Bitty couldn’t recognize it right away. “My neighbor recommended this place.”

Bitty grinned. “The neighborhood is loyal. They love me as much as I love them.”

The man’s smile was soft, a little shy, and it made Bitty warm all the way to his toes. “I can see why.”

And oh, there went Bitty with his own blush. Clearing his throat, he held out the coffee pot. “Can I get you a refill?”

“Oh.” The guy smiled. “That would be good, thank you.” He held out the cup.

And then he just…let go.

It dropped from his fingers before Bitty had even a second to react, and cracked on the hard, polished floor. What was left of the coffee sprayed out, and Bitty found himself hopping backward with a quiet, “Oh dear!”

The man’s face went scarlet, and he let out a long string of what sounded like French before looking up at Bitty, splotches of red high on his cheekbones. “I’m so sorry. Really I…”

“It’s fine. Lord knows I have the worst butterfingers some days. You just sit tight and let me grab you another cup.” Bitty rushed to the counter, and felt achingly bad for how mortified the poor man was. So he swopped up another mug, and filled it from the carafe which had just finished brewing. Adding to that, he grabbed a piece of pie from the fresh apple he’d pulled from the oven, and plated it before walking it over.

The man was still staring, forlorn at the broken mug, and Bitty quickly slipped the pie and coffee down to distract him. “On the house. You seem like maybe today wasn’t so stellar.”

“I just,” the guy looked down at the coffee again. “I’m adjusting.”

Bitty didn’t have a clue what that could have meant, and he offered up no further explanation, so he just sighed and said, “I’m Eric Bittle, I own this place, and everyone calls me Bitty.”

The guy softened, then stuck out his hand. “Jack.”

Before Bitty could take it, the book in Jack’s hand dropped the same way the coffee did, and Jack drooped forward, low enough that his forehead hit the table and he muttered in French again.

Smothering a laugh, Bitty walked around to the other side and picked the book up from the floor. “The Guns of August,” he read out slowly.

Jack peeked his head up. “I…like history,” he said, almost sheepish.

Bitty laughed. “Lord, my worst subject, though I did alright in the one seminar I had which let me bake a pie for my final.” He winked as he slid the book on the table. “You sight tight. My momma always insists there ain’t no ail a bit of pie and coffee can’t cure. And I trust her with my very life.”

Jack huffed a quiet little, haha, then picked up his fork and dug in. It was sweet and endearing, and Bitty had to excuse himself for the broom and mop before he made an even bigger fool of himself.

Jack didn’t say much else when Bitty was clearing up, except a soft goodbye when he’d finished, and he muttered a quiet promise to be back soon. Bitty didn’t feel his heart calm down for hours.

\--- --- --- 

Bitty didn’t see the strange, clumsy man for another several days, and it was just past the huge after-Church rush they got Sunday mid afternoons when the door swung open and he walked in. Bitty was by himself, giving everyone else a break before their second rush, and he looked up to see Jack looking as good as ever in some shorts and a pale blue button-up. He had a baseball cap tucked low over his brow, and a faint blush on his cheeks when his bright blue eyes met Bitty’s.

“Hey, uh. Bitty?”

“That’s me,” Bitty said, leaning on the counter.

Jack approached, and took a long, slow look at Bitty’s shirt which was a drawing of a bit, fat cat with rings around it, and the word Caturn just below. “You ah. You like space?”

“I like cats,” Bitty said with a tiny laugh. “I don’t have any bad feelings about space though. Why? You a space nerd as well as history nerd?”

Jack’s blush only got deeper. “Something like that,” he said, and in his embarrassment sounded _very_ French. “Can I…do you have any of that pie? I’m…I haven’t had anything so good since I got back. I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

Bitty grinned. “Trust me, I hear that all the time. But I am glad you like it. My Moomaw would be over the moon.” He winked at the slight space pun, which only made Jack grin a little bigger. “Go on and sit down. I’ll bring it right over.”

Jack nodded, then took his table from before, settling in. He didn’t have a book this time, but he took out a phone and began to tap on it, stopping when Bitty walked over with his food.

“Now, this is my house vanilla spice coffee which is very popular with the people who take it black. You let me know…” He didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence, because Jack just sort of…let his phone go. It clattered on the ground, the sound overwhelming in the quiet shop, and Jack just sort of stared at it, a vague look of mortification on his face.

“I…”

“Honey, it’s…it’s okay,” Bitty said, leaning on the table. Maybe he was sick. Bitty knew perfectly well there were all sorts of conditions that cause people to lose fine motor skills, and he didn’t want this man to feel ashamed. “I know that some people…”

“I just got back from space,” Jack blurted.

Bitty snapped his jaw shut. “You. Space?”

Jack rubbed the back of his neck, and huffed. “I’m an astronaut? I was…we were on the space station. Six months and I just…” He dropped his head and muttered, “ _Gravity_ ,” like it was a curse.

Bitty blinked, then his mouth stretched into a wide, wide grin. “Oh my lord. Oh honey. You….the cup? And the book and…”

“And my phone,” Jack said miserably. “Logically I know it doesn’t float but I keep…I’ll drop my pen and then start looking up for it and I…” He shrugged.

Bitty couldn’t help himself. He pulled up a chair across from Jack and looked him dead in the eye. “Go on, honey. Tell me all about it.”

\--- --- --- 

They talked after that. And talked. After Nursey and Chowder got back, they kept talking. And Jack hung out during the rush and when it was over, Bitty closed up shop and they went down the street for some Italian and they _kept talking_.

Bitty did his best not to laugh too hard when Jack dropped his fork and then looked _up_ instead of down for it, and he didn’t try to curb his smile later on, on the walk home, when Jack took his hand. 

They eventually made it to Bitty’s building, and they hovered there on the doorstep, slightly to the side so they wouldn’t be disturbed by people coming and going.

“I had a good night,” Jack said, smiling softly. His hand was still in Bitty’s, and he was drawing his fingers gently along the sides of Bitty’s own. “One of the best I’ve had in a long, long time.”

Bitty grinned, leaning in a little closer. “Must’a been a little lonely up there.”

“It can be,” Jack admitted. “It has its charms.”

“Yeah?” Bitty asked.

Jack brought up his other hand, and let the tips of his fingers touch Bitty’s jaw. “I still don’t love gravity. But…I’m happy to endure it, if I get to do this.”

“This?” Bitty said, voice nearly a whisper now as he leaned in closer.

Jack just smiled again, and leaned his head in close to kiss him.

It was maybe for the first time, right then, that Bitty swore he knew exactly what Jack meant when he talked about weightlessness. Because he was definitely, definitely floating.


End file.
